"Then--"

Then what was it like, he wants to ask. What the hell is the difference? He needed to get screwed, so you scrwed him. That's no different to what they're doing here, right?

(Yes, it is, and he knows it.)

He's got no goddamn right to even get frustrated about this, never mind angry.

(Definitely not jealous.)

He stops, turned away, pushing a hand through his hair. It's getting longer than he likes.

"Look, Connor, it's - if you're gonna branch out, or - whatever it is you wanna do. You don't gotta tell me. You don't owe me jack."